Posts Tagged With: pregnancy

Numbers on the scale mean nothing. How your body feels and what it is capable of mean everything. Skinny is nothing without muscle. I never want my girls to believe being “skinny” is what makes them beautiful, strength is beauty.

But alas, I can not explain this without using numbers… so deal with it for a moment.

4 years ago I weighed 115lbs. I was lifting and running and felt amazing. I was tiny but strong. The world was good.

Pre pregnancy I was bouncing from 130-135. I wasn’t running well, wasn’t very happy, and wasn’t feeling healthy. I had many excuses and the more times I told myself those excuses were OK, the more I came up with. Kids has always been a big one, I’m a Mom of 5 after all…. running was just “selfish” despite that I am a better Mom when I’m feeling healthy. Definitely a “down” moment in my health and fitness.

This pregnancy got me outside. It started with a hike up Humphrey’s at 5 weeks pregnant with all my little people, and ended with my running 24 miles in my 38th week and hiking 4 miles an hour before I delivered. I ran or hiked 469.9miles during my pregnancy. January was my largest month in over a year with 94.6 miles and over 13,000 feet of climbing. I felt amazing.

At my last visit to the midwife before birth I weighed 147lbs.

6 days after giving birth I weigh 128lbs.

yes, I am very sleepy!

That is insane to me. There is still fluid, my uterus isn’t totally shrunk, but I’m still below my pre pregnancy weight.

Why does that matter? Because it is proof I GAINED fitness during my pregnancy which is CRAZY. I get that I wasn’t in my ideal shape before, but gaining fitness? Just crazy. I felt great, ran well, and am proud of every step I took.

While the scale doesn’t matter I am beyond excited to see what my body is capable of now (well when I get the OK to work out again). After all the care I gave it during pregnancy I look forward to seeing how it will treat me not pregnant.

I usually run when no one is on the trail, just how it ends up working out. Every so often I get a stare or kind word, but mostly it’s a lonely go for Miss Piper Dog and I. Yesterday being a holiday for some reason did not compute with me that the trails would be busy (not that I really care…). Well hello crazy looks and second glances! Apparently a pregnant woman on the trail running is weird, a bunch of kids on the trail running is weird, put them together and it’s an alien envasion!

I haven’t really run with my little people in a while… I think I’ve just been in my own world. We have hiked and done some running, but it didn’t ever feel like a real run. This week I got in 4 or so miles with Tea and felt awesome about it, then decided while Tru was occupied to get in some mountain time with the others. Let me tell you, keeping up with a crew of 6-12 year olds is hard work at 35 weeks pregnant! They were nice and waited for my often, but man did they drop me as soon as they started rolling (even little Ten)! I was a pretty proud Momma as they all rocked the trail. Little Tenny took a rough turn right in front of some hikers and ate it hard! She popped up and started running again as I (40 feet behind) got the death stare from said hikers! Eh, it happens. So 3 miles with my people and I’m feeling slower then ever, but pretty complete…

Where has the time gone?! I feel moments of “damn am I done yet?!” And moments of extreme terror “can this baby stay in forever?!?!” All my Littles are more then ready to meet their new brother or sister, and we do have 2 outfits… soooo… what else do we need?

Boy or girl? What’s your guess??

Running?

Yup, I’m still at it. Sloooooow goes it with moments of abrupt stops, hands on knees, and very loud “FUUUUUCK”‘s. It happens. There is very clearly a head down low which causes some interesting pains at times, but it’s very well worth it. My golden miles are usually 4-6, I feel great and can really run! But well… then things get interesting…

Strava’s Monday-Sunday just seems silly at this point. I decided to count my weekly miles in my pregnant weeks. Thursday, the first day at 34 weeks, I ran 7 miles and yesterday I did 3.9. By next Wednesday I will have my 30 miles for the week, no matter how slow those miles may be.

What’s funny about “slow” is I love encouraging new runners. My mantra of “it doesn’t matter how fast you are, lets enjoy the view” I really do believe. But I suppose its always harder to look at yourself and be patient. Everyone I have ever run with and walked happily with up each hill, I loved it. I really do believe being a “runner” is a mindset and no matter how fast (or slow) you move you are still a runner, I promise to try and be more patient with myself as I have done with so many other.

Strength-

I feel like there is a huge misunderstanding with the outward and public strength I show. My “it’s ok” “just a moment in life” and “i’ve got this” stand is true, but that does NOT mean I am OK with the situation. I do not have a choice but to continue to move forward and handle my life. I do not have the luxury (or misfortune) of being able to avoid responsibilities. I can’t run around (ha, run) and pretend I’m not about to have a new little human. I am a Mom. When I tell you “I’m good, I’ve got this” I really do, but that does not justify or gloss over the behavior of others.

It’s an interesting world to live in. One where you share your life publicly but feel like there are some things that should be kept private. Whether it be to keep it from family, try and pretend it isn’t happening, or to save someone else from ridicule. Maybe thats an honorable thing? To keep inside what you know will hurt someone else and what they do? But in turn if that hurts you, by lying to the world, is that ok? Who in the end is more important? Those that can learn from your story and benefit in their own lives? Those that harm you but you want to save? Or yourself?

I am 28 weeks pregnant and doing this all alone. Well, my kids are here and I have some really awesome friends that support me, but otherwise without a partner. It’s hard to even say, but though this wasn’t completely unplanned (the words “we should have a baby” weren’t spoken by me) it has still ended up here. At some point between lies and broken promises I asked for space and it turned into any pregnant woman’s natural disaster. I found myself loosing weight and vomiting constantly from the stress that was being put on me. When someone lashes out its always hard, when you are pregnant, it’s unbearable.

When I was pregnant with Tajh (my oldest) I should have been stressed out. Before I became pregnant with him I was not with his father. We were both living our own lives (after being together for over a year) but still spending time together (i.e. obviously sleeping together). I also had a pretty large drug problem. Prescription pills were redly available and I took full advantage of that. One night at a party I was the epitome of a “stupid girl” and did way too many drugs and made some terrible choices. I could use the word “rape”, that awesome trigger word that would get me out of all responsibility for my actions, but in the end I took too many drugs and passed out. I can not blame anyone except myself for that. While the boys (we were 18.. cause and effect just isn’t there yet so not “men”) should not have taken advantage of the situation, I should not have been so incapacitated I couldn’t protect myself. I am not minimizing rape, just speaking about my specific situation.

Enough on that, but basically Tajh’s Dad really had no reason to assume Tajh was his, and for the most part he didn’t. We both moved down to Tucson for school (living separately) and lived our own lives. I had a hard time being alone and moved back home after my first semester. Though he wasn’t totally involved I was thankful he spoke to me, came with me to appointments at times, and wasn’t as mean as he probably could have been. He could have used the “its not mine” and run away, but he didn’t have that in him. I will not give him full credit (who wants to give their ex credit), but in the end he chose to error on the side that the baby may be his and he should be minimally supportive. I don’t think I realized it at the time, but even though I was strong and confident in my decision to have Tajh no matter what, having him not run away was so important for me.

Today I am here. The father of this baby doesn’t answer my phone calls. While living his own life he has decided to completely avoid responsibility. Money might cover “things” but the baby doesn’t know that. The baby also does not know his voice, he has never felt the baby move, and never met my midwife. I would love to just be angry about all this, to have hatred for how terrible I have been treated, but really it’s just sad… I know what he is missing out on, I’ve done this before, but there is no way to explain that to someone who is on the run. When someone has hit “fight or flight” you can’t stop them. There is a large part of me that wants to hold all their “friends” who are supporting this flight accountable. How can you support him missing out on being a part of things? How can you support him not taking responsibility like an adult? But then again, real friends call you out on your bullshit… So I guess we see where they stand.

Look, I get it, life is hard. Im 28 weeks pregnant, running 30 miles a week, taking care of my 5 Littles 2 cats and a dog, trying to eat when Im stressed about all this, trying to be excited about this baby alone, creating my birth plan, thinking about how sad it will be to give birth alone (well with the kids there), but I’m doing it… Because I have to… Because I can’t run away. I have to show my children that running and anger gets you no where in life. You must always push through and do the best you can no matter what. Strong is beautiful and confidence should be the priority.

I really did struggle with posting this. I haven’t blogged recently because I was afraid of “letting it out” in some way, but I had to. If you read my blog and have been following me for a while you deserve to know what is really going on in my world, otherwise why should I have a blog at all? My desire to empower Mothers to be strong in their parenting outdoor wildly amazing children means I must tell the entire story. My kids and I are still adventuring strong. This week Little Tru (4) has 11 miles on his legs, which means I spent 11 miles next to him listening to his little stories and playing in the mountains! (ok 3 of those miles were during a Thanksgiving Day road race) A pregnant Mom can still take her 5 Littles outside to play in the mountains! Men not needed 🙂

It’s basically a disability. When you mention it to non runners they freak out. Clearly moving your body at an increased speed must be dangerous! Don’t even both mentioning how much you are running, or thats its on trails, or that you are alone 99% of the time. “Yes I always carry my phone”. Truth be told, my phone stays charged for little to no time so most the time its pretty useless out there…

I didn’t run much in the beginning of this pregnancy. I really just wasn’t feeling like it, and I was ok with that. Looking at my Strava (thank goodness I didn’t have to use my pregnant brain to think on this one) I started posting my runs in September, so 4 months ~ish (pregnant brain). It started out slow, and then I just started to feel good! I would walk when I wanted, be patient with my belly when it wasn’t feeling it, and tried to not care about my pace. Don’t get me wrong, some days I was down right mad I couldn’t even drop into an 8 some pace for a minute, but other days I could rock it. So what did it really matter? Who was I competing with? Myself mostly, and inner demons that need their own blog post… or 12 posts…

Everyone I meet and talk to about my Little Family talks about how patient I must be to have 5 kids, but I’m really not. This time the patience I was able to give myself paid off. Running became easier and eventually I hit 20 miles in a week, then 30 at 25 weeks pregnant! Not fast, not all “running” but 30 miles all the same. I was proud, happy, confident! And then someone hurt my feelings about where I was at in my running… and I cried (because thats what pregnant girls do)… and I sulked…. and had a terrible week of running. But then I remembered I really don’t give a shit what ANYONE thinks and I ran. Some weeks I can hit 30 miles, its kinda my goal, but some its just not going to happen and thats ok too!

Falling-

Is an issue. I have fallen once and it was scary. I caught myself (thank you water bottle and phone) and the belly did not meet the ground. Thank goodness. But also, pregnant girls fall just walking. And I increasing the likelihood while on the trail? Yeah, but I’m also making myself happy by getting out there.. Give and Take? When its more technical I try and slow down, and when its pretty well groomed of a trail I let my legs go. If something bad happened, yes I would feel terrible, but there are risks in me just driving, or cleaning the cat box, I do the best I can to balance all. (Will someone please come clean the cat box for me?)

Hydration-

Lots of peeing… LOTS! I drink SOOO much while running right now and pee constantly. Sometimes on myself… it happens. Damn you downhill.

Food-

I can not eat. At all. I never feel hungry (even if inout for 3 hours or more) and when I get back home I still can’t fit food in the belly. It sucks, I wish I could eat!

Also, I have to wear 2 sports bras- EVIL!

I’m hoping to run until the end. Maybe sticking closer to home at some point so as not to give birth on the trail… though that could be kinda fun…

I always had the feeling that I was missing someone. I would count my kids and still feel like I had it wrong. From the moment Tajh started walking I remember having that panic moment. It continued no matter how many I had. Even at 8 kids I felt like someone was missing on a regular basis. Weird to say, but I never felt “done”…

Until about 8 months ago. I looked around and told myself I had everyone… no more were coming… I began looking up how I wanted to handle being “done” I don’t do hormonal birth control and I just “knew’ no more were coming, so research began… I’ve had the question of whether or not this on was an “accident”, as rude as a question that is, I will say it wasn’t completely unplanned or planned.

Even with that being said, and knowing a baby was a possibility I hadn’t had that “feeling” of not being done. I still felt finished, my table felt full, my arms felt busy… And even these first 21 weeks I haven’t felt like there was another one joining us. I really don’t know how to explain it, but my family has just felt complete…

Some nights are busy with activities, drop offs, pick ups, and trying to get everyone fed and in bed (without leaving a giant mess) is a lot. I don’t always sit at the table during dinner, sometimes dishes need to be done, now, so I can function in the morning… Tonight as they ate, talking about their day while listening to some Cat Stevens I looked over..

And suddenly my table did not feel so full….

I had that same feeling that someone is missing.. someone will be joining us soon.

If you don’t follow my youtube channel (what the hell is wrong with you?!?)

Yes, I “needed” more!

I found out I was pregnant the day before I left for my summer adventure with the kids. The idea of living outside with 5 children and a dog while growing a human inside me sounded daunting, but I was all in. I made the choice to tell only my bestie Lala because I knew the worry that would come. I knew people would be uncomfortable with the choices I was making. Even without my Dad knowing, when he found out I would sleep in the middle of nowhere in my car when I didn’t have the kids he tried offering me money for a hotel. People, my family, anyone not living in this world of silly outdoor adventuring would not understand and I didn’t want to deal with the judgement.

Now living in a tent in bear country with morning sickness sucks. Where normally you can have crackers by the bed and try to curb the nauseousness upon waking up, I had to wait until children where awake, help get little people dressed, hike up a hill to the car, and start breakfast for a bunch of hungry heathens. By the time food was ready I was usually beyond the point of being able to eat and the drive to our next adventure would usually involve some stops for breathing breaks while I tried to contain the vomit. To make matters worse, when you have 5 kids and spend 10 hours a day hiking it’s hard to care for yourself. Often I would realize I ate one cliff bar all day… Not such an awesome idea…

My kids were great though. While they didn’t know they are very observant and kind and I found the older ones especially checking on how much I was eating. They figured I was saving all the snacks for them and would offer me theirs, and I would try to not dry heave in front of them. Carrying a 35lb toddler on your back up a mountain while doing your best to not vomit on yourself really keeps the day interesting. In case you missed it, here are a couple adventures we went on while in my first trimester-

So the kids would leave for a week and I would find myself recovering. Orange juice and apple juice became my crutch for a while. I would wake up and immediately drive to the store. Some mornings I could function ok after chugging some juice, others I found myself just trying to recover from the week prior. At some point juice just didn’t cut it and I moved on to root beer, yup, healthy. Root beer and a cliff bar was my diet some days, and I will not apologize for this! There is no good vegan food in the mountains of colorado! I was dying! All I wanted was something delicious, but I had no idea what that was. I really found myself longing for a bed, terrible television, and delicious food. Oh the dreams I had! Mind you, when I didn’t have my kids and actually had myself together enough to be around people that wasn’t easy either. I now found myself lying and coming up with excuses as to why I wasn’t drinking. Nothing makes you feel like an alcoholic more then people being dumbfounded that you aren’t drinking… *sigh*

So, We Survived! And now we are back to the normal grind of school busyness. Second Trimester and trying to run in the heat is pretty miserable, but I’m hoping to push through. We have some exciting adventures planned for the future!